


wicked game

by CapnShellhead



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, M/M, Multi, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 11:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: Clark meets the illustrious Tony Stark at a party to ask him some questions. Bruce stumbles into their meeting.





	wicked game

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Tony does call Bruce "Brucie" in this story but it is purely from a teasing standpoint. 
> 
> Don't ask me where this idea came from. I honestly don't remember. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Clark had been nervous the whole ride over.

He’d straightened and re-straightened his bow tie. He’d checked to make sure he had his notepad about six or seven times. In retrospect, he needn’t have worried because the moment he arrives to interview Tony, Tony pulled him into a backroom and tossed Clark’s notepad onto the coffee table. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Tony asks slyly, shuffling over to the bar.

Clark shifts his weight from foot to foot and weighs his response. “I’m a reporter.”

Tony muffles a laugh and shoots him a good natured grin over his shoulder. “I gathered that, gorgeous.”

Clark flushed and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. He looks around the dimly lit room and it’s a lot more lush and grand than he realized on the way in. It appeared to be some sort of sitting room with glitzy draperies covering the windows, gaudy lamps on every table and two grand couches covered in pillows. 

“I’m here to interview you about your new Intellicrops program,” Clark says awkwardly. His eyes trail down the clean lines of Tony’s frame, the smooth curve of his back leading down to his trim waist and his ass. His tailor certainly knew what they were doing and Clark catches himself staring before he kicks himself. His mother would be ashamed. Just then, Tony shoots him a knowing grin and turns, leaning back against the table. 

Clark starts to stutter out an apology but Tony waves him off. “I’ll send you the same material I send everyone else. You’re not here to work. Not officially,” Tony says as he moves across the room. “Your paper’s interview is scheduled during office hours. Why did you follow me in here?”

Clark blinks at him, his nerves getting the best of him. “I wanted an honest answer.”

“About?”

“Bruce Wayne,” Clark admits and Tony smiles, his eyes guarded. 

“Well, that will take some time.” He stops in front of Clark, his brows raised. “What do you want to know?” This close, Clark can make out flecks of green in his dark eyes, the fullness of his lips. Clark blinks, tries to get himself to focus. “His strengths, weakness, dirty little secrets?” His tone was cutting and Clark sensed he’d stumbled into dangerous territory.

“No, no, nothing like that. A - a friend of mine is working with him on a - group project and I wanted to get advice from someone that really knew him,” Clark explains and it seems to calm Tony. He eyes him shrewdly for quite some time before his face opens up and he treats Clark with another teasing look.

“Well, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, Clark. I lost touch with Bruce for a while there.” He drops down on the couch with a bottle in hand. Clark coughs and nervously studies the tips of his shoes. Tony laughs at his attempt to avoid appearing judgmental and sets the bottle down on the floor. "Relax, I’m not gonna drink it. Bruce and I used to play this game all the time in college.”

Clark smiles slyly and adds, “That’s funny, he told me he stayed in an all boys dorm. Probably just another lie to get me to feel sympathy for him.”

“No, no. We did,” Tony says with a smile. “Sorry, does that make you uncomfortable?”

"No,” Clark swallowed. “How many people did you play this with?"

"Is that your subtle way of asking if I was a slut?" Clark flushes and Tony’s grin widens. He sits down on the floor in front of the couch and Clark follows him down. ”Off the record? It was just me and Brucie." He laughs, "strange game we played there. Used to be, if you spun and missed the other guy, you 'won'. Then, through a series of dares at my graduation party, Bruce found out I gave a pretty decent blow job and winning was spinning on me."

Clark feels a rush of heat down his spine as his gaze involuntarily drops to Tony’s mouth. His lips look soft, red beneath his mustache. If Clark were a betting man, he’d wager they’d melt beneath his own before the gentle scratch of Tony’s goatee. He forces himself to focus, even as Tony eyes him knowingly.

”Used to be. What does it mean now?" Clark blew out a quick breath and watches as the bottle stopped. It was facing Tony. Clark’s heart beat faster and he could hear the steady, calming tempo of Tony’s heartbeat.

"Whatever you want it to mean." Tony says as he leans across the space between them, his hands coming down on either side of Clark's waist. Clark blinks up at him, licking his lips in nervous anticipation. Tony grins, his eyes soft as Clark closes his eyes; takes in the smell of his cologne as Tony's lips touch his. 

Clark had been right; his lips were plush and soft beneath Clark’s before the scratch of his mustache grazed Clark’s skin. Tony tastes like ginger ale, his mouth wonderfully warm and welcoming as he reaches up to cup the back of Clark’s neck. Tony kisses like he was content to do this for the rest of the night. Settling in against the couch and drawing Clark closer to him. Clark sighs, content to lose himself for a while. 

Then Bruce appears. 

The door closes with a quiet click behind him, followed by the sounds of expensive shoes on the hardwood floor before it turns into carpet. He stands before them silently as Tony pulls away to greet him. ”Brucie, nice to see you." He was breathing rather roughly and Clark feels a sense of pride. He'd done that. He'd brought that flush to Tony's cheeks. 

"I was looking for... Clark." The dark look in his eyes usually made Clark feel exposed but now it sent a rush through his body. "I see you found him."

"I did. He's very good at this game." Tony leans over to grab the bottle but never left Clark’s space. "Want to play?" Bruce watches him silently, his hands in his pockets. Tony’s chest rose and fell as he waited. 

Clark can feel the tension between them and he doesn’t quite understand it. Was Bruce uncomfortable with Clark knowing this part of him? Was he distrustful of Tony? Was it... was it possible he was jealous over Tony or... maybe even Clark? 

Bruce stared at Tony for a solid moment before removing his jacket. He loosened his tie and sat down across from them. He had a large form and next to Clark's, even in his misshapen suit, Tony was clearly the smaller guy here. What had Clark been worried about? Should any danger come to them, Tony was the one that needed to be protected. 

Bruce spun the bottle, an apathetic expression on his face but there was something in the flick of his wrist, the near imperceptible eye twitch that told Clark this spin was very calculated. It was a slim chance of Bruce being able to choose which of them it landed on. 

It landed on Tony. 

Clark sucked in a breath, even as Tony shifts on the floor and leans back against Clark’s chest; waiting. He was putting on a cool facade but Clark could feel his heart pounding in anticipation. Bruce gave nothing away as he crawled forward, his eyes cool as he takes hold on the lapels on Tony's jacket. He slides a knee between Tony's thighs, pulls the genius up with a tight yank before crushing their mouths together. There was no other word for it; there was kissing and this certainly wasn't a delicate press of the lips. It wasn't even the sultry slide Clark had shared with Tony. This seemed as if Bruce had a goal in mind and Tony was standing in his way. 

And maybe an outsider would think that goal was Clark - and maybe he was part of it but judging by the way Bruce's hands clenched in Tony's jacket, the way he bit down a groan, pushed Tony back against Clark and climbed over him - Tony was definitely part of Bruce's plan. Clark sucks in a deep breath as Bruce’s hip pushes Tony further into Clark. Clark can hardly refrain from grinding against the tight ass pressed against his crotch. He can hear the small sounds Tony was trying to stifle in the back of his throat as Bruce sucks on his tongue, his hands clearing Tony’s buttons and zipper. 

Clark swallows and barely has time to think before he hears the soft slap of skin against skin. He can’t help but to lean over Tony’s shoulder to watch as Bruce’s hand works Tony’s cock ardently. Tony huffs out a laugh, his hips pushing into Bruce’s grip. Tony pulls away, his beard scratching along Clark’s skin as he whispers into his ear, “Are we making you uncomfortable, Smallville?” he asks huskily, his head falling back as Bruce sucks a bruise into his neck. It must be a particularly amazing spot for him because he groans deeply and fucks into Bruce’s fist even harder. Clark’s ashamed to say he’s hard, snug against the crease of Tony’s ass and he’d very much like to get a hand on himself but the friction Tony’s creating is doing interesting things to his cock.

Bruce pulls back to grin at Clark as he pants, “Clark, you can go now.” He flicks his wrist and sends Tony into a nearly painful arch as he nearly comes, cock jerking warningly before Bruce halts his motions. Clark can barely concentrate on Bruce’s words as Tony whines desperately. “If you want.”

Clark glares at Bruce, looks to where Tony’s breathing roughly into his neck and makes up his mind. He pulls his jacket off and spreads his legs further, taking Tony in against his chest. “I’m starting to think my being here is making you guys uncomfortable. If you want me to go, just say so.” He eyes Bruce for a moment before Tony whines again, bringing a smile to Bruce’s face as he takes up a rhythm again. Clark leans in and breathes in expensive hair gel as he sucks on the spot beneath Tony’s ear. “Is this what it was always like between you two?”

Tony groans but manages to nod in between the cruel twists of Bruce’s wrist. “Yeah - oh - Bruce was always a jerk. Didn’t ever let me come without making me work for it.” His eyes fall open as he smiles at Clark hazily. “Went on for over an hour once. He’s the most stubborn, determined little fucker i know.” 

He missed the small smile Bruce tossed his way before Bruce held him still at the base of his cock and swallowed him down. “Christ!” Tony shouted before his head nearly knocked into Clark’s chin and his spilled into Bruce’s mouth. Clark felt his own cock jerk in sympathy as Bruce milked him through it, sucking down Tony’s release with a flourish as the man above shook in Clark’s arms. When he was spent, Bruce tucked him back into his pants and sat back, seemingly unaffected. If Clark didn’t know what to look for, he would’ve missed the flushed cheeks and the slightly stiff movements. 

Bruce picks up the bottle and gestured to Clark, “Your spin?”

Clark swallowed thickly and nodded, his hands taking up slow strokes over Tony’s chest. Bruce smiles and hands it over to Clark. Beneath his chin, Tony leans up slightly and says, “It’s my spin, actually.” He takes a deep breath, grabs the bottle and set it down on the carpet. Then he tapped the neck a hair to turn it towards Bruce. Bruce eyes at him steadily, his tongue swiping over his red lips, wet from Tony’s cock. Tony groans softy and pulls himself away from Clark, his warm weight instantly missed as Clark watches on. 

Tony crawls over Bruce coyly, spreading the billionaire’s legs as he does. He peaks over his shoulder at Clark and then returns at Bruce, “You wanna show Smallville over there how to fuck me?”

Clark’s cock jerked once more and his stomach twisted with excitement. Bruce seems conflicted for a moment, only a moment before he reaches for the drawer of the nearby table. It was a hotel stocked for two billionaires. Of course there were lubricant and condoms in the drawers. Bruce lets Tony settle against his chest as the billionaire murmurs, “Just like old times, huh?”

Bruce huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh as he pulls Tony’s pants off. “Just like old times.” He rubs his hand possessively over Tony’s ass with a fond smile before he returns to Clark. “Clark, be a doll and slick your fingers for me.”

Clark swallows, uncertain for a moment. Long enough for Tony to meet his eyes with an expectant look. He was waiting - no judgment. If Clark decided he couldn’t do this and left, no harm no foul. If he crossed paths with Tony again, and no doubt he would, he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. Clark had an out and this was it. 

He rolls up his sleeves and takes the lubricant. He opens it, pours some in his hand and rubs his palms together to warm it. Then he looks from Tony’s flushed face to Bruce’s observant stare. “What do I do?”

Bruce looks to Clark’s slick hands laughing softly, “Slick your fingers, Clark. It’s not lotion. Nice and wet - you want to get him loose enough that you can slide right in.”

“Me?”

“You.” His eyes fell to Tony’s ass, Clark an afterthought. “You’re going to fuck my friend here. And I’m going to put that mouth to use.”

“Always did want to shut me up,” Tony murmured with a grin. Bruce smiled, ran a thumb over Tony’s bottom lip. When his mouth fell open to suck Bruce’s thumb into his mouth, Bruce sighs. Just soft enough that the average man would have to strain to hear it. It makes Clark shiver, his cock straining even further in his slacks. 

“No, I like hearing you talk when I’m inside you,” Bruce said, pulling his thumb out as he moves over to let Clark slide in next to him. “Motormouth made it impossible to keep this a secret.”

Clark centered himself behind Tony and sucked in a breath as Bruce palmed Tony’s ass cheeks and pulled him apart. Clark was pretty sure he was supposed to be doing this on his own but Bruce seemed intent on making sure it was done right. Clark sucks in a breath, watches as Bruce’s thick fingers press against the tight pucker. He can’t seem to look away as Bruce grabs the lubricant and slicks two fingers. He slides the slick digits over Tony’s entrance a few times, just teasing him before he slides one finger inside, slowly, carefully at first. It’s painfully slow and Clark’s cock jerks minutely with every stroke as Bruce ups it to two fingers, just slowly pumping inside of Tony’s tight little hole. Tony’s panting, his hands trembling on the carpet as he waits. Clark can see his cock bobbing, engorged and dribbling as he starts to push back on Bruce’s fingers. 

Bruce swallows, his lashes fluttering minutely as he just explores the warm tightness sucking in him in for a moment. Then he swallows, his voice wrecked as he says, “When he gets like this,” his fingers curve down, brushing something inside of Tony that makes him whine and his arms weaken. “Then you know he’s ready. See?” he asks as he crooks his fingers again and Tony nearly falls to the floor. Clark moves to hold him, Tony’s breath hot on his stomach as he pants and pushes back into Bruce’s fingers. 

“Bruce, come on,” Tony begs, his knees spreading further apart as Bruce continues to finger him. He’s rolled his sleeves up, slicked his fingers again. So much that there’s an audible sound, Clark can hear the slick wetness of Tony’s hole as Bruce’s fingers stretch him open. Clark can see it, the way Bruce’s thick fingers stroke him, crook and press against that place inside of him. Clark can’t help but press the heel of his hand against his own erection in desperation. 

Tony sees him, lifts his head from Clark’s chest to smile mischievously. “You’ll be nice to me, won’t you, Smallville? Bruce is hellbent on teasing me but you’ll give me what I want, won’t you?” His lashes are thick and long as he stares up at Clark. His eyes are dark, hungry, Clark feels himself lean forward before he realizes. His hands cradle Tony’s face, so large where Tony is just a man. A human man. Clark’s bigger than him in just about every single way. Tony surges forward, their lips coming together in a much more desperate kiss than before. He takes Clark’s tongue like he was entitled to it and Clark can’t explain why that makes him groan low in his throat. He gives in, lets Tony suck on his tongue avidly as the genius’ hands come down to undo Clark’s pants. 

He nearly forgets about Bruce’s place behind Tony but then Tony’s panting again, breaking away from him as Bruce starts pressing four fingers inside. Tony’s chin rests on Clark’s shoulder as he pleads, “Thank god. More.”

“Don’t get greedy,” Bruce chides, moving at a leisurely pace. He’s strained; Clark can see it in his jaw and his arms. He’s holding Tony’s hips tight in his free hand, the veins in his arms evident as he holds himself back. Clark has seen him run across half of Gotham for morning jogs without breaking a sweat and yet here he was, breathing labored as he tries to reign himself in. 

Clark takes Tony’s mouth once more, swallows his cries as Tony writhes in his arms. His cock is wet, the head dripping precome onto Clark’s dress shirt. Clark pulls away and breathes into Tony’s ear, “He wants this. He’s holding himself back.”

Tony groans, nuzzling into Clark’s neck. “Yeah? That true, Brucie?” he calls over his shoulder. Bruce eyes him for a moment before inching in further. Clark knew what this was: a test of wills. One of them would give in and beg before the other and that person would “lose”. “I know it’s good. Probably tighter than you remember. Hmm? Probably wetter than you remember. Wasn’t easy to get lube in secret back then.”

“You did this back then?” Clark asks curiously.

“Graduation gift to me,” Tony said. Bruce’s hand grips Tony’s shoulder as he pulls him back. Tony laughs, his cock bobbing flushed and dark against his stomach. “Best thing you ever got me,” he says happily. 

Tony can’t quite see Bruce clearly from this angle but Clark can. He doesn’t miss the way Bruce’s brows furrow and his face softens for a moment before his eyes cut to Clark and he nods. “Come on, Smallville.”

Clark moves forward and kneels behind Tony. Bruce grabs a blanket and lays it down. At Clark’s curious look, he explains, “For his knees.”

Clark watches as Bruce spreads Tony for him again, the sight making Clark weak in the knees. He’s wet, slick and the kind of loose Clark knows he’d slide right into. His entrance pulses, clearly noting the absence of Bruce’s fingers and it makes Clark’s mouth water. He can’t help but press his fingers to the soft ring of muscle. Tony’s waiting, his thighs tense as Clark’s fingertips trail over the opening. Bruce’s hand comes up on Clark’s lower back as he leans in, his breath warm on Clark’s cheek. “Go on, put your fingers inside.” Bruce slides a deft hand to the front of Clark’s pants. He grips Clark’s cock in a tight fist and whispers, “Go on, then. He’s been patient.”

Clark swallows and dips his fingers inside. Just a little, just a bit. Enough that Tony whines for it and Bruce laughs softly in his ear. He dips in further and then he can’t resist sinking in two fingers all the way in. It’s so warm, loose enough to welcome him in but tight enough that Clark bucks in Bruce’s grip. 

Bruce tsks and says, “Can’t let you do that, Smallville. Save it for Tony.” His hand loosens around Clark’s cock as Clark takes up a rhythm. He has no idea how Bruce held back from sinking himself inside. It’s all he can do to stick to his fingers. He wants to get Tony down on his stomach and bury himself inside but he makes himself wait, keeps sliding his fingers in until he’s up to four and Tony’s cursing him worse than Bruce. 

“This is my favorite part,” Bruce says,his fingertips playing in the copious amounts of precome leaking from the tip of Clark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s torturing Clark in the process. His hands are surprisingly calloused, the finger pads the perfect texture to tease more from Clark as they circle the crown. “He can barely hold himself up. I’m sure you can handle that part, too.”

The words send a shock through Clark’s body. The tone, the lowered gaze. Just enough of a hint to make Clark wonder if Bruce knew who he was. He swallows nervously, starts to ask and then Tony pushes back on his fingers, engulfing them in tight, sucking heat. “Christ,” he murmurs. He looks to Bruce again who has moved around to Tony’s front. 

“Stop whining, you spoiled brat. You’re going to get what you want as soon as Smallville figures out where to put it.” He gives Clark a look and returns to Tony. Pushing Tony’s hair back from his forehead, Bruce’s hand comes down to cup the back of the genius’ head. He pulls Tony into a demanding kiss, Bruce’s brow furrowed as Clark takes in the glint of teeth. Clark’s distracted watching as it turns into a game, a test of wills. Tony takes control and Bruce takes it back. And so on and so forth until Bruce growls frustratedly and pulls away. His eyes are open, more expressive than Clark’s ever seen from him. 

“What do you need?” he asks Tony softly.

Clark can’t see Tony’s face but then Bruce is nodding and moving forward for Tony to get a hand on his hip. Clark shifts just enough to see Tony’s pink tongue lave over the crown of Bruce’s cock before he mouths the head. Bruce is breathing heavily but he’s still until his eyes cut to Clark’s and he asks thinly, “What are you waiting for?”

Clark nods, lines himself ups and takes a deep breath. The moment before the fall, the moment where his stomach tightens in anticipation. He knows he won’t last long; he can’t remember ever feeling this needy but he makes himself go slow. Slows it down so it’s near torture for both of them as the blunt head of his cock presses against Tony’s entrance and slides inside. Tony groans low and deep, the sound stirring Clark to move a little faster. His hand comes down wide and impossibly large on Tony’s back and the sight drives Clark crazy. He takes hold of Tony’s hips and takes a hesitant stroke. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” Tony moans. 

Clark starts to apologize but then Bruce is adding, “You can go faster. He can take it.”

Clark thumbs Tony’s swollen rim and nods to himself, pulls out and slides in a little faster. Then a little rougher. Builds a rhythm at his own pace but the sounds Tony’s making are driving him crazy. He loses his persona a little and forgets Clark Kent shouldn’t be able to pull Tony back so easily. Clark Kent shouldn’t be able to keep up this impossibly fast, relentless pace. Tony’s enjoying it judging by the sounds he makes before his mouth is otherwise occupied. 

Clark can hear the wet sounds of his mouth around Bruce’s cock, the desperate whines in his throat when Bruce holds him back, makes him pace himself. He looks up to where Clark is watching him and smiles, “I like to make him work for it.” He takes hold of himself and slides the slick tip along Tony’s bottom lip for a moment, licking his lips as Tony reaches as best he can with Clark’s hold on him. When he’s done playing, Bruce moves forward and lets Tony suckle on the head and take him further down. 

“See, I can be nice,” he hummed, running a hand through Tony’s hair as Clark fucks into him roughly. He takes in the blissful look on Tony’s face and grins. “One was never enough for you, huh? Always wanted more - everything you could get. Greedy little slut.” Tony moaned louder, his head coming up as he stared at Bruce. “Loved that about you. My little overachiever,” he murmured, his fingers tightening in Tony’s hair. 

Clark hisses as Tony clenches tight around him with a muffled shout. His mouth comes off Bruce’s cock, leaving the tip wet and slick as Tony comes in streaks of white across the blanket. Clark hunches over his back, his hands tight on Tony’s hips as he follows suit. He comes, his vision whiting out, cock jerking hard as filling Tony with come. He can hear the wetness of his release as he pushes into Tony a few more times, milking his release completely. When he finally pulls out, he’s still hard and Tony’s dripping with come. 

He curses, running his fingers over the swollen hole and spreading the wetness around. It was obscene, stirring some unknown feeling in the pit of Clark’s stomach. He wants to put more inside. He wants to get Tony flat on his stomach and keep going, keep pumping him full until he was drenched with it. He didn’t know where the urge came from - it was unlike anything he’d felt before. Tony’s hole tenses and more of Clark’s release trails down his thigh. 

Clark sighs, powerless to lean forward and run his tongue along the translucent path. Tony gasps and shivers, releasing more and Clark can’t resist swiping that up too. He made a mess. A really big mess and more of it was coming out. He cleans his way to the center and plunges his fingers inside. It’s even messier this way and Clark’s cock aches in sympathy. He plays in the mess of it, crooks his fingers deftly and feels Tony’s hole tighten desperately around him. 

Bruce’s hips start to pump, his face tightening as Tony sucks hungrily at his cock. He smacks around the head, sucks Bruce down until he’s shaking, his fingers tight in Tony’s hair as he comes, his stomach tensing with every pulse. Tony swallows greedily; Clark would expect nothing less from the way he’d done just about anything he could to get it. Clark pets Tony’s stomach fondly as he laps at Bruce’s spent cock.

Finally Bruce lies down on his back and Tony lets himself rest on the billionaire’s chest. His head lolls lazily as he says, “Hmmm, you can go again, darling.”

Clark studies him curiously.

“I’d imagine you could go a few more times. Kryptonian biology and all that. Granted, there’s not a lot out there on the science of it but I’ve always wanted to test out the refractory period.” He turned to look Clark in the eye, an excited glint present. “How long can you go?”

Clark’s heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through his body. Bruce was simply watching him; he appeared bored. As though he’d known for a long time. “You told him?”

“Didn’t have to,” Bruce said and did Clark detect a hint of pride? “A pair of glasses. A comparison of measurements. The fact that you hefted a grown man with one hand earlier.”

“God, that was hot.” Tony turned over onto his back, his head resting on Bruce’s chest. He spread his legs tantalizingly, a smirk on his face. “I knew who you were the moment you walked in. I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Clark tries to concentrate on his face but his eyes keep falling to Tony’s swollen mouth, the sheen of drying come on his stomach, Clark’s release dripping from his entrance. He feels himself move forward and grip Tony’s thigh. He slides in with no resistance at all; as if Tony had made a place for him here and he could stay for as long as he wanted. 

“I don’t know, to answer your question,” Clark says through hushed breaths. “I don’t know how long I can go.”

Tony pants, his cock bobbing along his stomach as he stares up at Bruce. “Let’s find out.” His eyes are bright, brimming with excitement and some of Clark’s worry fades away. He wants to stay here, wants to keep burying himself inside this tight warmth and watching this beautiful man drag him under. Tony murmurs, “Bruce, I definitely win this round.” 

Bruce rolls his eyes, a possessive hand stroking over Tony’s chest as Clark’s rhythm rocks them. He thumbs a nipple and laughs softly when Tony arches against him. His voice is soft, “I concede.”


End file.
